This evening and part of the night, I sank again into the dense sea, where we beings and things float. I descended for pearls to show to men who fear even the risk of the border. This evening and part of the night, I was amidst that silence, in that deepness where the most infinite pleasure would be dissolving, and I knew that on all roads there are monsters for those who fear them. Swimming I arrived where there is no love or hatred, you simply float over an eternal present, and everything you regard is your contemporary. Nothing else is carried by the tides. I took this pearl and now offer it to you. But when I have wanted to return, I saw no man on the border. I didn’t see the border. All is the sea. Those who fear the border, do not know they are walking on the sea.

TO MARIANNE MOORE – Carlos Barbarito

If the idea of immortality is excluded, there remains dust, grass, water that forms puddles, the branch from which the bird sings, a certain mystery that reason supposes a fleeting shadow. There remains, in the end, life, the room where a woman pulls on her stockings, the other room, perhaps adjoining, where a couple undress and embrace, and afterwards say to each other: we shall not die.

INSTANTS – Jorge Luis Borges

If I could live again my life, in the next – I’ll try, to make more mistakes, I won’t try to be so perfect, I’ll be more relaxed, I’ll be more full, than I am now. In fact, I’ll take fewer things seriously, I’ll be less hygenic, I’ll take more risks, I’ll take more trips, I’ll watch more sunsets, I’ll climb more mountains, I’ll swim more rivers, I’ll go to more places, I’ve never been, I’ll eat more ice creams and less (lime) beans, I’ll have more real problems, and less imaginary ones,

I was one of those people who live prudent and prolific lives, each minute of his life. Offcourse that I had moments of joy. But, if I could go back I’ll try to have only good moments, if you don’t know thats what life is made of, don’t lose the now!

I was one of those who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, without a hot-water bottle, and without an umberella and without a parachute. If I could live again, I will travel light, if I could live again, I’ll try to work bare feet at the beginning of spring till the end of autumn, I’ll ride more carts, I’ll watch more sunrises and play with more children. If I have the life to live – but now I am 85, and I know that I am dying.

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